


Let's Get Dangerous

by undying_lilies



Series: Adventure Swap [1]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: AU where the plots of DuckTales and Darkwing Duck swap, Gen, Gos and Webby actually swap tho, Gosalyn & Drake sort of swap roles with Scrooge & Webby, Role Swap AU, adventure swap au, and he's their cousin, please read that first I beg you, plot swap au, so Donald & the triplets are related to Drake instead, there's a better explanation of it in my doodle book on Wattpad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28930077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undying_lilies/pseuds/undying_lilies
Summary: Huey, Dewey, and Louie Duck are the experts of doing many things in one day.Such things include trying to run off with the houseboat, getting dropped off at a former superhero's business, unleashing ultimate chaos onto St. Canard, and bringing the famous Darkwing Duck back into action.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Gosalyn Mallard, Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard, Drake Mallard & Launchpad McQuack
Series: Adventure Swap [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121810
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Let's Get Dangerous

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This is the start to an AU that I have created along with salenaRD - Adventure Swap! This is sort of a re-write of the first canon episode but in here, and hopefully it'll explain most things . . .? 
> 
> (Also: I have a chapter in my Wattpad doodle book explaining this AU in bigger detail (same username as here) if you're still confused: https://www.wattpad.com/1014506358-lilies%27-big-book-of-doodles-and-other-things)
> 
> Context for this particular fic:  
> \- the in-universe Darkwing Duck show doesn't exist, but all the villains do  
> \- everything happens in St. Canard  
> \- the Duck family is NOT related to Scrooge; they're related to Drake  
> \- this is an AU of DuckTales 2017 but there are quite a few Darkwing Duck references in it

_ “I can’t leave you boys alone for one minute!” _

Donald shoved all three triplets into the car and shut the door, frustrated. Once they sat down, the triplets all looked at each other for one second of sweet silence - before they all started talking at once.

Dewey pointed accusingly at Huey. “You were supposed to get him out by ten o’clock,  _ Hubert.” _

“Well,  _ you _ were supposed to give us a signal before you started the boat,  _ Dewford!” _ Huey shot back, crossing his arms.

Louie groaned. “We never get to do anything,” he mumbled, sinking deeper into his seat.

Donald slid into the driver’s seat and turned around, facing the boys. He studied them for a minute. 

Then he sighed. “Look, if we want to keep our home afloat and  _ not _ sink it, we all have to make sacrifices.”

The triplets stared at their uncle, confused.

A few seconds passed. Then Donald wordlessly - but reluctantly - set coordinates into the GPS. Its slightly robotic voice echoed through the car seconds later:  _ calculating route to . . . Mallard Enterprises. _

“Mallard?” Huey piped up, his eyes widening. “As in  _ Drake _ Mallard?”

Dewey’s jaw dropped. “The SUPERHERO?”

“You’re finally getting rid of us, aren’t you?” Louie quipped, leaning over the front seats.

Donald gave them a look. “I’m not going to get  _ rid _ of you,” he said flatly. “He owes me.”

“We’re gonna meet  _ Drake Mallard?” _ Dewey screeched, bouncing up and down in his seat. “I heard he’s  _ so _ epic, he saved the city from a rock giant and then carved a statue of  _ himself _ out of its leg!”

“I heard he’s  _ so _ smart that he solved the mystery of the town’s money suddenly multiplying - turns out it was just Bushroot!” Huey added.

“Oh!” Louie chimed in. “I heard he’s  _ so famous  _ that he’s been on, like, every talk show in the country!”

“He hasn’t been on  _ mine _ yet!” Dewey announced.

Louie shoved his brother away. “Yours doesn’t count!”

“Alright, alright!” Donald interrupted, pushing the two boys away from each other. “Turn it down a notch! It’ll just be a couple of hours.”

“A couple of hours with the most exciting duck in the  _ world!” _ Huey swooned. The triplets started bouncing up and down in their seats, ecstatic - none of them noticed Donald’s quiet but irritated muttering as he started up the car.

~

“Just another day at the office, ey, Drake-man?” 

Drake Mallard leaned against the window of the car, watching the buildings of St. Canard fly by. Just another day, indeed. No doubt filled with hearing Gyro’s latest technology experiments (that most likely had failed) and trying to avoid the lower levels of his office building. 

Who knew an old lair would make a good office? 

“I don’t really have an office,” Launchpad McQuack continued, keeping his eyes on the road. He normally didn’t drive Drake to the office, but today Launchpad was headed there as well, so he had offered to drive. “I guess you could say the  _ road _ is my office.” He grinned. “Hey, that’s deep. I should write that down.”

“Keep your eyes on the road, Launchpad,” Drake said, not bothering to turn around from the window.

“Right, absolutely.” Launchpad guiltily snaked his hand away from the glove compartment, about to pull out a pen and notepad, and instead set his eyes on the road ahead.

A few seconds passed. Drake fidgeted in his seat and eventually pulled out his phone. Almost all of his notifications were news reports - news, news, news - about supposed crime reports going through the roof. 

He was about to shut his phone off, but - seeing that Drake was looking through the news - Launchpad nudged him a bit. “Hey, did you hear about that crazy rise in crime in St. Canard? Would hate to  _ crash _ into that one.” 

“Mhm.” Drake distractedly scrolled through the news. Almost all the big-time papers had articles on the  _ crime _ and nothing else -

“Dunno how the police force will handle it, though. I heard that Bushroot’s even coming back - I’m betting for all the big villains myself. Imagine what a reunion that would be, right, Drake?”

He didn’t get a response from Drake. For the rest of the ride, the car was filled with silence.

Until Launchpad pulled into the office’s parking lot. “Hit the brakes!” he yelled, stomping on the brakes so hard that they both lurched forward in their seats. Drake’s phone flew from his hand and landed on the car floor.

He grabbed his phone and then straightened himself, scowling. “Why aren’t we moving?” he demanded - but when he looked through the front window, he saw the problem.

Another car had stopped in front of them. Slightly run-down, a light shade of green, large enough to hold at least five people or more - and a familiar voice floated through the driver’s seat, directed to the voice box. 

“Gyro, open up!” the voice demanded. “I’ve gotta get out of here before -”

Drake’s eyes widened. Then he saw three heads pop up in the back of the car.

No, no, no. Absolutely not.  _ Impossible. _

Furious, he leaned over and hit a fist on the horn.

“-  _ he _ shows up,” the duck muttered. 

“Hey!” Drake yelled, getting out of the car. “Get out of my parking lot this instant!”

The duck dragged himself onto the parking lot, and so did Drake - they met halfway in between their cars, tension high in the air. They both narrowed their eyes and folded their arms in a way that was eerily in unison, much to the watchful eye of those three identical ducks in the backseat of the van (who had taken to watching this strange scene).

“Donald Duck,” Drake said through gritted teeth.

Donald crossed his arms, frowning. “Cousin Drake.”

The car next to Donald shook -  _ literally _ shook - from side to side with sudden excitement and cheering. 

“So.” Donald stared at his cousin. “You’re looking good.”

“Still . . .” Drake paused. “. . . living on that boat?” 

“Still in charge of a business?” Donald raised an eyebrow. 

Drake gestured to the building beside them.

There was an awkward pause.

“So . . .”

“So.” 

Silence. 

“So get out of my parking lot this instant!” Drake finally snapped.

“Oh, here you go again!” Donald exclaimed, scowling. “You always act like you’re so  _ famous  _ or something!”

“I  _ was _ famous! Years ago! Now move!”

“I would love to!” Donald huffed, irritated. “But I just so happen to have a job interview that I’m late for!”

“So why are you standing here and  _ yelling?” _

“Gyro said that you’d watch the boys! Can you do that without  _ using them?” _

“Of course I can!” Drake cried, exasperated. 

“Fantastic!” Donald yelled, and he walked over to the car and threw the door open. And out of the car hopped three nearly-identical boys, each one dressed in a solid color - red, blue, and green.

Drake found it hard to swallow. These were . . . they had to be at least ten years old. Had it really been that long since -

“Huey, Dewey, Louie,” Donald interrupted, ushering the boys towards Drake. “Meet Drake Mallard. Remember -” He cleared his throat and put on a no-nonsense tone. “No tricks, no gags, no trouble.”

“Yes, Uncle Donald!” the boys chorused.

Donald narrowed his eyes at Drake. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Drake found himself glaring right back. 

~

At first Drake took the triplets with him to his office, where he promptly sat down and started going through a stack of papers on his desk. And ignored the triplets sitting excitedly in chairs a few feet away.

The door almost immediately slammed open, though, revealing Launchpad with a cup of coffee. “Here’s your morning coffee, Drake!” he announced, setting it down on the desk. He was met with silence.

After a second or two, Launchpad nudged his friend and glanced at the triplets. “Aren’t you going to talk to them?”

Drake ignored his friend and sipped his coffee. Launchpad lingered for a moment, but then he gave up, reluctantly sighed, and left the room.

When Drake set down his coffee, though, he found that the triplets had moved at lightning-fast speed to the front of his desk.

He leaned back, startled. 

“Do, um . . .” He paused. “Do children still like . . . card games, or -”

“Are you  _ really _ Donald’s cousin?” Huey interrupted.

“How old are you?” Dewey chimed in, jumping onto the desk.

Louie climbed onto the desk, too, ecstatic. “Do supervillains hate you, like a lot?” 

“What’s the deal with you and Uncle Donald?”

“Ooh, is that paperweight something you stole from a villain? Can I keep it?”

“How come you never visit?”

“Because you’re getting old and moving is so hard?”

“You owe us a  _ lot _ of birthday presents!” Dewey burst out.

“You used to be a big deal!” Louie exclaimed, sticking his head into Drake’s. “Whatever happened to you?”

Drake’s fist slammed down on the table before he even realized it.

“GYRO!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, startling the triplets.

~

Before the triplets knew what was happening, Drake pushed all three of them into an empty meeting room.

He turned around and faced his head scientist, scowling. “You agreed to watch them.  _ Watch them.” _

Then he spun around on his heel, storming out of the room.

The scientist faced the triplets, a deck of playing cards in his hands. “Please do not  _ leave _ the designated area,” Gyro informed, giving Huey the deck. “This is a gift from your . . . first cousin once-removed. You’re giving them back when you leave.” 

As soon as the door clicked shut, the triplets all looked at each other.

“Great,” Huey muttered, crossing his arms. “Now we have  _ two _ boring relatives.”

Louie stuck his hands in his hoodie pocket. “We’re totally ditching this room, right?” 

“Yep!” Dewey announced, and he grabbed the deck of cards from Huey (earning himself a “Hey!” from his brother.) He examined it for a minute, then headed over to the door. “And I know just how to  _ Dewey _ it.”

~

Drake stormed down the hallway, fuming and grumbling to himself. It was just like his cousin to spring those atrocious adolescents on him  _ without  _ warning and then only telling  _ Gyro. _ Drake had a phone, too! Donald could’ve just as easily called _ him! _

(There was, of course, the fact that Drake would’ve promptly refused on the spot. As much as he hated to admit it, calling Gyro and not him was a smart move.)

In getting caught up on how Donald hadn’t just  _ called _ him, honestly, Drake realized that he’d walked right past a familiar old door. He stopped, looking over his shoulder.

He stood there for a few seconds, his mind frozen and his entire self paralyzed. The amount of times he’d walked past this door and not given it a second thought was countless . . . but today was very obviously not a normal day, because suddenly he pushed open the door without another thought.

Inside was a dark room, everything covered in a thick layer of dust. Drake flipped on the light switch and his heart swooped when he remembered what was in there - rows of shelves, carrying all sorts of old gas guns, smoke bombs, random old newspapers littering the floor, and . . . a glass case. A so-very-incredibly-dusty glass case.

A dusty glass case that housed his old superhero uniform.

He instinctively reached up and wiped a section of the dust-covered glass clean, seeing his reflection appear before him.

Used to be a big deal,  _ indeed _ .


End file.
